Broccoli
by Woodrow Rynne
Summary: That was what she was, a name, not an entity, at Hogwarts. A name that was synonymous with ugly, hideous with everyone. Completed.
1. A Name

Chapter One:** A Name**...and that was probably what she would always be

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><p>She stared at herself.<p>

At the tall yet pudgy body. At the long yet wispy hair framing her round face. She was a myriad of contradictions.

And how she loathed it. Loathed herself.

The soft brown eyes in the glass were scrutinising, filled with contempt at what they beheld. The small eyes, the broad nose, the too-wide mouth. The splattering of bright red pimples over what would have been a creamy white skin.

Eloise Midgen grimaced; the expression was ugly, uglier. She couldn't even bring herself to look at her distasteful reflection. Her white teeth had been revealed and they didn't flatter her image either: nothing ever did, could ever do. They glinted slightly in the light from the lamp, the result of a weak attempt by her to redeem her appearance somehow, highlighting the large gap between her two front teeth.

It was lucky, people said, those oblivious, sermonizing people, unaware of how cruelly ironical the remark could be for a self deprecating girl like Eloise. It was lucky, they said, to have a gap between your teeth. That it brought fortunes and happiness to you.

What kind of happiness could it be, Eloise often wondered with a bitter sort of pleasure at finding fault with the world, that came without a smile? For she could not bring herself to smile in company. Could not bear to see the grimaces and staring of people.

_Did you break half a tooth?_ some would ask stupidly, curiosity for meaningless gossip etched on their faces.

Eloise never knew how to respond. Or how to stop the embarrassment to show on her face.

And they said, those people to whom Eloise was perhaps as insignificant as a flobberworm, they said, supremely confident in their arrogance and belief that they alone were right and knew the working of the world. They said that a smile was the most beautiful and precious gift you could ever give to someone.

How very wrong and unkindly prejudiced such a thought was when you were Eloise Midgen. Such thoughts were spoken of beautiful people: beautiful, pretty people whose world was a different one altogether. A shiny, pretty, _happy_ world just like those attractive boys and girls she saw in the corridors and in her classes. Eloise had heard often that it was a mirage— that even beautiful people had their own problems. She was no stranger to it— she had seen it in those moving-thingy at Justin's house. How the main actress had cried when she had chipped a nail.

What did Eloise care about such trivial things?

_If I was beautiful_, she often dreamed_, I wouldn't. I would be nice to people and help them out. And they wouldn't stare in disgust when they saw my face because it would be beautiful._

And she often prayed. To God, like her muggle mother did every Sunday at church. Except she simply knelt beside her bed, when the dormitory was empty, because it was too embarrassing to do so in front of other girls. She knelt on her knees, joined her palms and prayed, prayed to God to let her be beautiful.

_I will not be mean. Promise. I will help people, and I will not kick Jenny's cat when she isn't looking, and I wouldn't be rude to mum when she tries to be understanding. I will not be mean like Roger Davies or Fleur Delacour. I would be better than them. I promise, God, I promise. Just make me pretty, please God, please?_

She hadn't kicked Jenny's cat in a month, even when she ruined her bed sheets. But she wasn't yet pretty. She believed though, she believed still that there existed a spell to make you beautiful, to make your eyes bigger and your nose longer and straighter. Her pimples were already better due to the bobotuber pus, even though she smelled so bad for days after.

She wanted to belong in that beautiful world. For her, that world was wrapped in wonder and awe. And she wished, oh how she wished, she could be a part of it. She wished it when she saw the Patil twins covertly glancing in her direction and whispering pityingly; she wished it when she overheard Roger Davies tell his friends boisterously that Eloise Midgen was going out with a troll.

_A fitting match_, Roger had said, laughing raucously along with his friends.

At the time, Eloise had wondered how such a cruel thing could come out of such a beautiful mouth. Her mind had been grappling for an explanation in her bewilderment. But as Eloise had soon learnt, you could get away with anything when you were beautiful. Making cruel remarks as your forte meant being popular. This disillusion had merely elevated her utmost desire to be one of them. To be stared at with wonder and enchantment like Fleur Delacour. To be asked to the Yule Ball and have a date.

But dreams always remain that- dreams. Those sweet things imagined that are cherished by everyone but never realised or requited- dreams.

And just like that, instead of fulfilled dreams, Eloise had faced pity, disgust and ridicule. She was a topic everybody could rely on to provide entertainment, when other topics of gossip had been exhausted.

_Oh, poor girl!_

_Did you know she blew off her own nose?_

_I would rather go alone, than say— with Eloise Midgen._

She had simply become a name. It was like stale air, her name. Ever-present and ubiquitous, yet only talked of when you had nothing else to do.

That was what she was, a name, not an entity, at Hogwarts. A name that was synonymous with ugly, hideous with everyone. Nobody had ever bothered to find out what her name actually meant. It meant the sun, glowing brightly and lighting up everyone in its vicinity. Or that's what her mother had told her. No one else knew...except Justin.

"BROC! COME DOWN!" As if on cue, the voice that carried up the stairs and resonated across her empty dormitory was so loud that she jumped, stumbling a little over a fallen lipstick.

She picked it up and stared at it for a few seconds, her face torn, then replaced it on the dressing table swiftly, unused.

"COMING, JUSTIN!" she called back, as loud as she could, then turned to put on her robes.

She didn't glance at the mirror again, didn't need to.

For Justin, she didn't need to.

Because she was his Broccoli.

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><p><strong>AN: **I know, I know. Another fic?

What can I say, I just can't resist. :P This was actually written for a challenge, in which a type of food had to be important to the main character and my prompt was 'Broccoli'.

I know, it was really short And Lacked dialogue, but that was how it was meant to be.

This is my first attempt at third person POV, so I'm a little nervous. Let me know what you thought. :)


	2. A Nickname

**Chapter: A Nickname**...that she hated yet loved

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><p>Justin Finch Fletchley was a weird teenager. He talked to animals and while they couldn't understand him, he truly believed they could. His favourite subject was Divination and he had the tendency to turn horribly jumpy if someone so much as uttered the word 'snake'.<p>

But for the most part, he was weird because he liked something no teenager or adult ever could.

"Yumm...mhmm...broccoli..." Justin mumbled, breathing in the scent of the overly cooked vegetable. The pungent smell reached Eloise's nostrils and she recoiled in disgust.

"Could you at least do that in private?" Eloise tried her best not to let her apprehension show as she shifted further away from Justin on the grass, dragging her books along with her.

His eyes were dancing with mirth, and something much more obvious— greed, as it always was when he was near _that_disgusting vegetable. "I'm only eating, Broc," he spared her a glance, looking up from his beloved food for only a moment. "You make it sound like I'm having sex or something."

He laughed his very own laugh- rich and a little girly- as Eloise hit him over the head with her heavy Transfiguration book, and she couldn't help but grin back.

"That's so – ugh, Justin!" she squealed in protest and a sort of muted horror as he tried to wipe his icky fingers on her jeans.

His fingers stopped a few centimetres away from her clothes and Eloise froze in her process of scrambling awkwardly back on the blanket. "Don't. You. Dare." Eloise wished her voice didn't sound so squeaky.

His face cracked into a wicked grin, and Eloise gulped, her stomach swooping in dread. To her relief, however, Justin drew back, choosing instead to wipe his hands on the snow covered ground. Eloise scowled darkly at him, folding her arms over her chest.

"You _know_I'm allergic! You – agghhhh!" The hand which had been immersed in snow came up in one swift motion, directly at Eloise's face, landing with a resounding splat.

She sat completely still for a moment, feeling the snow drip down and her face turn numb through her closed eyes. Raising a hand to her face, she swiped off the combination of snow and mud off her face and opened her eyes slowly. Beside her, Justin's grin froze as her eyes narrowed. _Rightly_so, Eloise thought.

With a war-cry, Eloise lunged.

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><p>"And then...and then, he says, 'Well, that's funny, because I could've sworn I had seen it before'," he said in an innocent voice, while reciting his tale. Eloise glanced at Justin, whose expression matched his voice, though she could see he was trying very hard not to grin. She couldn't keep the grin off her face herself; Justin's was as infectious as it could get.<p>

"It was you, wasn't it?" she said accusingly, though she was grinning wider than ever now. "Oh Justin! Tell me you didn't!" She couldn't help laughing as he shrugged, finally grinning back. "That was so mean!"

"Hey, I was just having a little bit of fun!" he said defensively. "Besides, you'd have done the same thing if you'd been in my place. I was getting sick of listening to him brag about the number of trophies he had won," he added in an offhand way. Eloise didn't doubt it; Justin's cousins were snobbish and arrogant, even more so towards him because he was the exact opposite. Nor was he hoity-toity like his upper class Muggle family if his table manners were anything to go by. So it wasn't shocking really if he vanished his cousin's pants mid-lunch.

"Clever, wasn't it?" he said proudly. "And I didn't have to use any magic, either. Sluggernuff powder- temporary but effective."

Eloise just gave another laugh, lying down on her side beside him again.

The winter sun shone above them, making the snow around them glint strangely as they lay on it together at their usual place. It was chilling, and Eloise could feel the snow beginning to melt into her clothes, making her shiver, but she didn't care. This was their tradition. Lying in the grass on a Sunday afternoon; the change in seasons had never disrupted it. And more importantly, she didn't have the energy to climb up the tree under which they now lay to retrieve their blanket, which had mysteriously tangled itself in its branches during her snowball fight with Justin. Many feet away, she could see those Weasley twins playing snowball, and Eloise suspected the blanket had something to do with them.

She could still feel the perspiration on her neck from the fight, and knew that both of them would probably be lying in the Hospital Wing by evening, drinking Pepper-Up Potion, but it was somehow worth it— playing with Justin, just fooling around. Not caring about anything—mundane or important. It was as if the outside of the castle was a different world altogether- the one still with the childish games and stupidity.

Eloise loved every bit of it.

Even if it meant getting a snowball to the face and being near Justin, who truthfully, smelled quite badly of broccoli.

Eloise had never been able to understand how Justin could ever digest something as disgusting as broccoli, let alone like it. Like it so much, in fact, that he made his mother send weekly packages of the cooked vegetable, because for some reason unfathomable to him, the house-elves never made broccoli for lunch.

"But it's the most crunchiest, scrumptious vegetable ever!" he had protested loudly, back in their first year, upon discovery of this horrific news, his eyes widening in genuine confusion. Eloise still marvelled to this day how effortlessly she had acted comforting and hid her amused laughter.

Yes, Justin was a weird kid indeed, Eloise mused as she gazed at him now. The sunlight made his eyes appear almost golden, and his lips were stretched in a large grin, revealing overly pointed teeth at the corner of his mouth.

"You're staring, Broc," Justin spoke up suddenly, his eyes on hers. "Say, something on your mind?" he teased. "Me?"

Eloise frowned in response. "Don't call me that, please!" she whined for the umpteenth time.

Eloise obviously remembered the day Justin had coined the stupid nickname for her— she doubted she would ever forget it. After all, no girl could appreciate being called 'Broc'.

It had been a Sunday like this one, when Eloise had first learnt of his obsession with broccoli. The two first years had been loitering around in the courtyard that afternoon, when Justin's owl landed a package in his hands. It was wrapped in brown paper and smelled somehow familiar to Eloise, a pungent smell of something cooked.

"What's that?" she asked, trying to place the smell. "Is that _food_in there?"

Justin's face lighted up with an infectious excitement that made Eloise grin for no reason. "Yes! Yes!" Justin proceeded to hug the package in a most ridiculous of ways, which made Eloise laugh. "It's finally here!" he then began jumping in apparent elation. Now Eloise's curiosity was really stoked.

"What?" She prodded, hopping on the balls of her feet along with him. In answer, or probably not really listening to her, he ripped open the packaging. The smell was stronger than ever now; it made Eloise's stomach churn. Stepping back in horror, she finally realised what the package contained.

"My mum cooked this specially for me!" Justin continued ripping open the many layers of packing, oblivious to her immense discomfort. "Because Hogwarts never has this for lunch for some reason," he became silent, as if in a melancholic pause, then regained his animated demeanour. "And I was getting tired of waiting. But no more waiting for me!"

"Oh no, oh no..." Eloise moaned, backing away, her hand clamped over her mouth. She could feel her breakfast coming back from the overwhelming fumes.

"What's- what's wrong?" Justin finally looked up, realising that Eloise was no longer beside him, but a good ten feet away.

"It's broccoli, isn't it?" Eloise shuddered, though she could speak more clearly now, now that she was out of range of the smell. "I'm allergic."

"To broccoli?" Justin's expression was nothing short of horror-struck.

"Yes!" Eloise hissed in annoyance. "Now if you could wrap it back up?"

"But that's not possible," he shook his head for emphasis, his wide eyes earnest. "Nobody can be allergic to broccoli!" He said this as if the mere thought was blasphemous.

"Well, I am!" Eloise was getting really frustrated now.

"Do you get boils?"

"No."

"Rashes?"

"No, but—,"

"Swellings?"

"_N_o, but—,"

"Then you're not allergic," Justin stated smugly. "Come here, I'll prove it to you."

"_No_!" Eloise was very close to shrieking now, and possibly hitting someone if he didn't shut up. "Ugh! Don't tell me you _like_that disgusting vegetable!"

Justin scowled, but shut the package back up slowly to Eloise's utter relief. She lowered her hand from her mouth with a relieved sigh, revelling in the pure air. Justin, however, did not look up at her again, choosing to frown at his shoes and sulk. Eloise hesitated, wondering whether he had somehow hurt his feelings by insulting his mother's cooking.

"You're not allergic," Justin persisted, shoving his hands in his pockets but still petulantly avoiding her eyes. "That's just what _you_think. It's all in your head."

Eloise scowled, not bothering to reply anymore. She was sure her friend had gone utterly mad. When he didn't hear her response, he finally looked up.

"I just wanted to share it with you," he said in a small voice, blinking at her shoulder.

Eloise's eyes widened and she blinked back, unsure whether to feel flattered or horrified.

"Um...er...thanks?" she finally ventured. Justin didn't meet her gaze, just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "Uh...but look on the brighter side!" she tried her best not to sound too excited. "Now you can have..._that_all by yourself!"

He blinked, apparently just realising this. "You're right!" A wide smile graced his lips and he licked them as he glanced back at the package. "You're right!" he exclaimed again, this time with obvious enthusiasm. He then surprised Eloise by engulfing her in an almost bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, Broc! Thank you, thank you!"

Her head banged sharply against his as he did so and Eloise winced in pain. "Ouch!" she protested loudly, rubbing her forehead and trying to push away from the asphyxiating hug. It was then that the previously spoken words finally registered in her mind.

"Wait— wait a minute," she drew back from him to stare at his face. "_What_did you just call me?" she asked, sure that she had misheard.

"Broc, of course," he replied innocently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Short for broccoli."

"Excuse me?" Eloise asked, flabbergasted at his remark. "But...but I don't even _like_broccoli!"

Justin winked. "That's what I said."

Eloise's mouth hung open. "But that doesn't even make any sense!" she exclaimed, baffled.

Justin gave a wicked grin that Eloise would come to recognise very well later on. "Exactly."

That was the first time Eloise had learnt it was futile and completely pointless arguing with Justin.

At the time, Eloise had let it go— the weird nickname that he always insisted on using from then on, unaware how it would sound to her over the years. That despite her growing tolerance towards broccoli, she would come to loath it even more, merely because of what it would symbolise to her. How she was destined to become a hapless victim of vicious insults, snide remarks and pitying looks. How she would sometimes guiltily wish that Justin wouldn't associate her with that ugly vegetable, because she would become too cruelly synonymous with the name over the coming days— ugly.

As every time Eloise recalled that day, she currently felt a sort of exhilarating happiness— the same that came from a snowball fight or a laugh shared or a smile sent your way. Somehow, for reasons Eloise couldn't explain, it was different from the nervous one she felt when a teacher praised her or the satisfying one when she looked thinner in a dress.

It was a happiness that could only be borne out of something innocent, childish. Of something that was very rare in Eloise's life— friendship.

The second thing she felt was a little alien, yet familiar feeling. It was the longing, the wish that she could look as good as she did back then as a first year— her face wasn't that chubby then or her teeth that crooked or her hair that wispy.

"Don't call me that," she now muttered to Justin, closing her eyes. She knew it was a futile attempt; all attempts were when it came to Justin- he was used to getting his way.

"But it's such a cool name!" he protested in her ear. "And unique! Have you ever heard of anyone else with that name?"

"Obviously not," Eloise muttered again, frowning at the conflicting emotions that the nickname arose in her- the embarrassment, bitterness. Strangely though, she sometimes liked it when Justin called her that. 'Els' was preferable, of course, but Broc wasn't too bad either when they were alone. When Justin shrieked that name at the top of his voice in the middle of a crowded corridor, however, all such liking was forgotten.

"But it sounds like I'm a... I'm a dragon or something!" Eloise groaned, more out of habit at the usual conversation than actual feeling. "Or a... or a _hippogriff_! Or..."

"An alligator?" Justin suggested, sniggering. Eloise narrowed her eyes for the second time that afternoon, gathering snow discreetly in one hand. This time unaware, Justin kept on sniggering.

A snowball hit him square in the face.

As Eloise scrambled up quickly, laughing at a roaring Justin, dodging snowballs and jumping with mirth at his face, she felt utterly free and alone. There wasn't that ever-lingering sensation that someone was watching her; there wasn't that need to watch herself, to concentrate on not grinning so as to hide her hideous teeth. There were just them— her and Justin. And snowballs.

And despite everything. Even when she felt like shrieking and screaming for all of it to just stop— the staring, her worthlessness, the apparent rancour against her— Justin's voice filled her with something nobody else's quite did.

Hope. That perhaps she wasn't worthless after all.

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><p><strong>AN:** Hmm... this chapter was really, er..._fluffy_. Not my forte. Anyway, it might have been a tad bit boring, but real life is like that, isn't it? Or maybe that's just my life...hm... :P But there _is_ a plot, promise, however ridiculous.

I was really nervous while posting this chapter. Please do tell me your views- whether this was okay or utter rubbish?

*bites lips*


	3. The Mirror

**Chapter Three: The Mirror**

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><p>Eloise had started looking- actually looking at the mirror when she was twelve; not the callous glances at her stature before running out of her room or the bored, mind-numbing stares at the salon mirrors while getting her hair trimmed.<p>

No, it was an almost painful scrutiny- sitting in front of the glass for minutes at an end- not seeing, but actually looking. Wherein every small freckle seemed to scream out its existence- and every out-of-place hair arose in her an infuriation that refused to die.

It all started on the Christmas Eve that year, when she was home for the holidays. Justin had stayed at Hogwarts instead of coming home with her as she had suggested, declining the offer by mumbling something that sounded like, "Mum wouldn't agree."

"But...but we don't _need_ to tell her!" Eloise had persisted. She had known she was being pushy, but she hadn't cared at that moment – the thought of playing with Justin for the entire winter had elicited an excitement in her that made her writhe. She had imagined showing him around, taking him to that large Church that always fascinated her, and making their very own in her backyard. And she had visualised how it would be grander than any of the neighbouring kids'. Because Justin was like that; his hands were as thin and long as she had ever seen. They could transform the flat and dull surface of the snow into something..._magical_.

But Justin had flat-out refused. Eloise knew he told his mother everything; she hadn't expected anything less of him. But for the first time, his response had been rude and cold. "I'm _not_ coming to your house, okay?"

Taken aback, Eloise had blinked. In rare moments of retaliation, she shot back in the sudden anger that clawed at her throat, "_Fine_! It's not like I want you there either!"

Hurt, she had stormed away from him. He hadn't even tried to stop her.

_Stupid Justin! It's not like I need him anyway!_

But she had needed him, wanted him. They would have made an igloo together...

Blinking away a few stray tears that always came easily to her, she resolved not to care. She wouldn't talk to him until he apologised.

But that day was never to come. Little did Eloise know that two weeks later, she would burst into the Hospital Wing, only to find Justin lying on a white bed, unmoving and cold, his eyes frozen wide open in horror. Eloise heart would stop beating and she would find herself unable to move as well.

But Eloise had no premonition of the terrible turn of events to come, nor did she know that the reason behind Justin's tetchy mood was his fear of being killed. So she arrived home for Christmas in a similarly irritable mood that made her mother lecture her for five minutes straight.

Christmas arrived that winter without much excitement on her behalf- she had debated for hours the previous day whether or not to send a gift to Justin. Granted, they had quarrelled, but not giving him one would make it very real that they had. In the end, she wrapped up the painting kit she had bought for him and slipped it safely in her drawer. Her owl twittered indignantly as she tucked him back inside his cage.

She woke up next morning feeling anxious and nervous. Upon catching sight of the small pile of presents on her bedside table, she immediately sat up, and started searching for one with his name on it, but there were none. She stooped to look if any of them had fallen down, but no cube shaped boxes caught her eye from the debris under her bed.

Her heart sank faster than it had risen, and once again Eloise felt the conflicting feelings of disappointment and anger.

_Maybe he's waiting for me to give him a gift too_, she though feebly, glancing back at her drawer inside which her gift for him now rested.

_Maybe._

Without opening any of the other gifts, she disappeared into the bathroom.

When Eloise went downstairs, it was only to discover that her day had progressed from bad to worse. Her mother had made broccoli. For breakfast. On Christmas.

The sight set her insides twisting. And not merely because of the noxious smell. A vivid image of how Justin's face would have looked upon sighting this flickered before her eyes.

"Where's daddy?" she asked, folding her arms and scowling, not bothering to sit down at the table.

Her mother looked up from where she was doing dishes and shot her a reproving look for her tone. "He's at the ministry, Eloise," she said in a tired voice.

"On Christmas." Eloise's voice was testy.

"Yes, dear. The ministry can't stop working on holidays. You know that."

"Beth's dad is home..." Eloise muttered, glancing at the window, through which Beth's giggles could be heard, as she played with her father.

"Mr. Summer isn't a wizard now, is he?" Eloise thought she heard thinly concealed sadness in her voice. "Finish your breakfast, Eloise. Then we'll put up the lights together, alright?"

"I don't want to eat this," she muttered, glancing at the disgusting, green broccoli that was laden on her plate as if it had come in wholesale.

"You _will_, Eloise." Her mother's expression held an awful finality that she hated.

Eloise wanted to exclaim that she was allergic and how her mother was seemingly plotting her death and would be arrested for homicide if she made her eat this, but she didn't. Because she knew her mother wouldn't believe her; she never did.

Eloise would never know how she finished her breakfast that day, but she did. She screwed up her face, held her breath and plunged her spoon into the green lump and swallowed it. The hot, slightly bitter taste filled her mouth and she felt an overwhelming impulse to puke. Despite her better judgement, she swallowed though- the vegetable scalded her throat.

Whining, Eloise slid the plate away. "Mum! I can't eat it! Please!" she moaned.

Her mother started to turn to her with her hands on her hips, probably to threaten and coerce her through some other means, but a voice interrupted her. "Hey, _what_ is Rachel making my Eli-Mily eat?"

Both of them swivelled towards the sound in shock. In the middle of the room, apparently having arrived out of nowhere, stood Aunt Kath, her cloak the usual shocking yellow and her blond hair in a ponytail.

"Katherine!" Eloise's mum was trying her best to hide shock, but was failing terribly; her mouth was pressed in a thin line of disapproval and her hand was still over her heart.

"Rachel!" Aunt Kath proceeded to hug her reluctant mother, and Eloise felt dread build in her stomach.

Aunt Katherine or Kath for short was Mr. Midgeon's sister- a witch, but unfortunately, very prone to showing off the same fact. The result of which was that she tended to arrive anytime, anywhere, without any prior notice and without knocking the door for that matter. She never observed any subtleties in her speech either, always liking to speak the blunt- and often, harsh truth. She also liked to address Eloise as 'Eli-Mily', why- nobody quite knew. Her father said it was affection, but Eloise found it more likely that she just wanted to annoy her.

It was no wonder that Eloise mysteriously disappeared every time Aunt Kath gave an unceremonious, unwelcome visit.

"Oh, my Eli-Mily!" her aunt now exclaimed, burying her in a smothering hug, as her mother bustled off to prepare tea, leaving her to her fate. "I haven't seen you in ages!" She sat down on a chair and pulled a grimacing Eloise onto her lap.

Why did grown-ups insist on making stupid remarks whenever they encountered kids?...

"Oh, you've grown so much since I last saw you!"

...And take you down a memory lane- one which you had already visited for about ten billion times, mind.

"You know, when you were born, I could fit you in my right palm!" Eloise nodded helplessly.

And then they probably ask how the studies are coming along, if they are sensible enough. But if it's Aunt Kath, she's most likely to make a rude remark...

"And now, look at you! If you get any fatter, you'll look like my sister!" she laughed at her own joke. "Get up, get up, now. My knee's aching, Eli."

* * *

><p>Eloise stared at herself. In a dazed sort of shock, she realized she looked so different. Different from how she had looked in the morning. It was as if, all this time, she had been looking through a prism the fragments of reality- a distorted view of what actually was. As if now, all of a sudden, she could finally see what her subconscious had hidden from her until today. The mirror, she realised, didn't show her true reflection. Her now aware mind did.<p>

"Eloise?" Her mother appeared behind her dead ringer in the glass, silhouetted against the light coming from the door. "Aunt Kath's gone." There was distinct note of relief in her voice. "Now you can come down and finish your breakfast."

"Mum, please don't make me eat it."

Something in her voice stopped her mother from pressing the issue. She walked towards her, and stood behind her reflection, waiting.

Finally, Eloise spoke. A soft, broken whimper. "Mum?" Her mother's piercing blue eyes upon her face made her swallow back the question she wanted to ask. "I don't want to eat broccoli ever again. _Please_…"

Her mother sighed, sitting down beside her on her bed. "It's healthy for you, Eloise." She patted her arm. "It makes your skin glow. Don't you want skin like that?"

Eloise didn't know what she wanted- all she knew was that she didn't want to look like Aunt Kath. "I'll eat anything! Spinach, cabbage, beans…_anything_! Just not broccoli mum, please!" she cried, feeling the tears coming. She didn't even know why she wanted to cry anymore.

"Okay," her mother finally relented. "Fine- but you promise to eat anything else that I make?"

Eloise nodded fervently, as her mother stroked her hair.

"Mum?" she asked again, burying her face into her gown, and breathing in her scent. The lump in her throat came back, bigger and harder than before. "Do- do I look like Aunt Kath?" she waited for a response, dreading the answer.

"You have her nose," her mother replied softly. "Why? Don't you want to look like her? She's pretty, is she not?"

_And fat_, Eloise wanted to say, but she kept quiet and nodded. "Am _I_ pretty?" she finally asked in a whisper, almost ashamed of the question.

"Of course you are, honey. Look at you." Her mother made her look up into the mirror. "You've got such pretty eyes- see? And a cute little nose. And such soft hair." Eloise giggled, realising that was true.

Eloise embraced the lie. Like a terrified child leans into a mother's caress, curtaining off the reality with a more pleasant, less hurting illusion. Like we all believe that dreams and wishes can transform the stark truth as well, Eloise unwittingly built an effervescence of fantasy around herself.

In her twelve year old mind, she was beautiful.

* * *

><p>And now, as fourteen year old Eloise glanced as fleetingly as she could in the many mirrors of the second floor girls' bathroom, she thought back to how naive she had been. As if shutting your eyes could change something unalterable.<p>

"Harry, is that you?" a miserable voice drifted to her in the damp space, and Eloise jumped, tottering a little with her heavy bag.

"Um...no. I'm Eloise?" she spoke tentatively.

A ghostly figure emerged from the nearest cubicle, the shadowy head of a girl with thick, round glasses. She stared at Eloise with a combination of petulance and sadness, as if she'd rather she was somewhere else.

"Are you the Moaning Myrtle?" Eloise blurted without thinking, in her excitement. She had often heard of the ghost of the girl that lingered in the bathrooms, but never actually seen her.

"Yes, I'm the 'Moaning' Myrtle!" The girl wailed, tears brimming in her eyes to Eloise's alarm. "You'd have heard of me, obviously. _That ugly girl who always cries!_"

"Um...actually—," Eloise started to speak, but was interrupted.

"— oh I know what you all say! _Look at that Myrtle_—,"

"No, I don't—,"

"They all made fun of me when I was alive too! I don't need to hear anymore from _you_!"

"Lis—,"

"_Out_! Get _out_!"

.

When Eloise entered the Great Hall, her mind was still back in the second floor girls' bathroom with the floating ghost of that morose girl.

_The Moaning Myrtle_.

Was that destined to be her future as well?

_Don't be silly_, Eloise, she chastised herself. _There's no giant serpent in the castle anymore._Still, she couldn't help but wonder if anyone would miss her at all if she died. Or if they'd still poke fun at her even in death?

Upon this thought, Eloise felt an intense wave of sadness and pity towards Myrtle. And an unrestrained fury towards the rest of the world.

_Do only pretty people deserve to be happy, God?_ She thought with a wrenching of heart. _But why? Even though they are mean and rude- why are they still happy? Why does everyone like pretty people? Why did you make everyone so shallow?_

Though, Eloise admitted that she wanted to be attractive as well. Who wouldn't? Beauty was so intricately, inexplicably twined with freedom, ecstasy. She wanted that too. She coveted it. Avarice was only a part of human nature. But at least she didn't hate people who weren't attractive. People like her.

_Is that how it's supposed to be?_ she often wondered. _That you're either good or beautiful?_

Eloise didn't know; didn't understand why it should be so.

"Seriously, Els, if you make me say your name one more time, I swear I'm going to whack you over the head."

Eloise jumped horribly, bruising her toe against something hard. Jerking her head, she looked up into a pair of brown eyes. Justin was sitting next to her with a truly exasperated look on his face.

"Oh." She hadn't realised she had already subconsciously walked to the Hufflepuff table and sat down during her inner tirade. "Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her shoe against the second. "I was just...yeah." she had no excuse for her apparent zombie-like behaviour except telling the truth which she had no intention to.

Justin sighed, rubbing his palm against his heart and pretending to look faint. "Honestly, Els. I swear, if you had glared at me for another freaking second, I would've screamed." Eloise rolled her eyes at the overdramatic remark. "You officially beat Luna Lovegood at the creepy stare thing."

Eloise turned to Justin incredulously. "That's rich. _You_ stare at broccoli for fifteen minutes straight before eating it!"

Justin scowled.

As Eloise dragged her laden plate towards herself, she wondered if she should discuss the Yule Ball with Justin like every other person inside the castle. She mentally snorted at the very idea. She knew Justin would try to act all suave and lie offhandedly that he would just ask the first girl he saw. As if she didn't know he wanted to go with Hannah. The idea made her feel a little betrayed. And what would she say? That who would go with her? She snorted again. Who _wouldn't_ go with her, more like_. The whole damn castle_. She laughed darkly to herself at her own morbid joke.

Justin didn't seem to notice, however; he was busy staring with a glazed look at someone who was out of Eloise's range of sight. There seemed to be some sort of commotion near the entrance; a large multitude was gathered there.

"Wha- are you lookin' a-?" Eloise questioned him mid-chew, nudging him with her elbow.

Justin glanced back at her with a disgusted expression. "_Please_ Broc. Don't show off your revolting table manners in front of our guest."

Eloise swallowed the mouthful with a mock horrified expression. "Oh no! Please don't say you invited Ernie Macmillan to breakfast with us again!"

Justin tsk-ed away her remark with a wave of his hand, before his expression turned nothing short of enraptured. A look Eloise had come to recognise very well.

"Guess who I persuaded to sit with us, Els? Guess, guess?" Eloise wouldn't have been surprised if he had been jumping in his seat in excitement.

"Um...Harry Potter?" she offered, not sharing the least bit of his zeal. She was more than awkward around new people.

"Nope. Second guess?"

Eloise shrugged.

Justin pouted. "Aw...you're no fun! I invited _him_!" Justin pointed to someone behind her, grinning like a madman, as he always did around "celebrity" students. Or while talking to Hinkypunks.

"It's rude to point," she reprimanded, slapping off his finger before turning around.

Upon which she promptly choked on her already swallowed porridge.

"Cedric Diggory?" she asked hoarsely, whirling back to him. "You invited _Cedric Diggory_?"

"Cool, isn't it?" Justin asked her, wide-eyed and oblivious as always. "He's so modest- nobody would ever guess he defeated a dragon! He agreed to come at once when I asked him."

"I hate you!" Eloise cried in panic, sounding- she knew- much too melodramatic. "You know that?"

Justin seemed taken aback by her less than rhapsodic response. "But you wanted to hear first-hand narrative of his dragon experience, didn't you?"

"Yes!" she squeaked in a high-pitched voice. "_Yes_, but not from..._him_!"

He looked at her as if she was really thick. "Er...Broc, first-hand means from the person who experienced it himself. Um..._duh_!"

"Ugh!" Eloise groaned, feeling her face become a brighter and brighter pink with each passing second.

"— and you liked Cedric too, didn't you?" Justin continued, his eyes fixed behind her. "I mean, he's nice."

_More than like!_ Eloise wanted to scream at him, but she found herself unable to move. If only Cedric Diggory hadn't been walking their way.

"Hey, Cedric!" Justin waved over-enthusiastically, nearly knocking Eloise's head off.

"Hello Justin," a deep, familiar voice sounded behind Eloise as she tried to blend into thin air. She needn't have worried, though. She was invisible as always. Of course.

Despite herself, Eloise glanced sideways as Cedric Diggory seated himself next to Justin, a polite smile on his lips. If Eloise imagined that Justin didn't exist, he could have been smiling right at her.

_Right at me._

Overcome by an overwhelming impulse to run, she did the first thing that came to her mind; she dropped her spoon and ducked clumsily under the table.

Of all the long list of Eloise's crushes, Cedric Diggory was neither the first, nor would he be the last. But he was the latest, and being within a ten feet radius of him made Eloise feel the familiar sensation that her heart was pounding like a ticking bomb and would soon combust, spontaneously reducing her insides to smithereens.

Eloise didn't remember exactly when and how she had started fancying him, though his being possibly the nicest guy she had observed from afar didn't exactly help.

And now here she was, pathetically hiding from him because he was seated just two seats away from her.

_So close._

Eloise gulped as her mouth went dry.

It was at times like these when Eloise wished she was back in her first year, safely fancying Gregory Goyle just because he had picked up her books.

"Here," he had said, shoving the dropped books into her arms, albeit a little roughly. His eyes had been so innocent, his voice so sweet; Eloise was at once smitten.

"Thank you," Eloise replied, beaming happily up at him, but he didn't beam back; he was busy staring at her throat.

"Wait," he said suddenly, noticing her tie. "You're a Hufflepuff?" His voice didn't have the usual Slytherin disgust; rather, he seemed terrified.

Before Eloise could reply or even blink, he snatched the books from her and threw them back on the stone floor.

As she stood frozen, shocked, he hesitated, hopping from foot to foot, as if wanting nothing more than to flee the place, then looked up into her eyes with a pleading expression.

"Don't tell Draco!" he whispered, trying to sound intimidating, before running off down the corridor as fast as his fat legs could take him.

Eloise stared at his retreating back, her heart pounding.

For weeks, she harboured fantasies involving Gregory and forbidden love. She saw him glancing at her between corridors; saw Draco laughing cruelly at him for liking a Hufflepuff. Or was it just her imagination?

Over a period of next few days, she slowly realised it _was_. Goyle didn't smile at her; he hardly ever looked at her. It was _she_ who always searched for him, smiling at the back of his head, letting her imagination run amok. Letting her fantasies delude her mind.

How silly she was then, Eloise now thought hypocritically from under the table.

"Hey Ced," a loud voice drifted under the table to Eloise, whose calves were starting to ache. "Why sitting with that midget over there today?"

Cedric said something back to his friends which Eloise didn't catch.

"Oh, whatever. We'll be waiting in the Entrance Hall."

"Bye, Cedric!" a few female voices giggled, making Eloise scowl.

"Hello, Cedric's ankles," she muttered dully to herself, staring at his trousers and realising how creepy that was.

As she wondered if she should duck out silently and stealthily leave the hall before Justin could notice (a likely event in his enraptured state), a shadowy head appeared under the edge of the table.

"_Eloise, right?" Cedric Diggory's face was alight with a bright smile that made Eloise's pulse quicken. "Why are you hiding under there? Come on out."_

_...And Eloise obeyed, smiling shyly at him once she was seated back in her chair. Justin had mysteriously (and thankfully) disappeared._

_...Cedric smiled his very own breathtaking smile, taking her small hand in his warm ones. "You don't need to hide, Eloise." He drew closer. "You're so beautiful."_

"ELS!"

Eloise jumped, breaking out of her ridiculous, yet wonderfully happy daydream.

"_What_ are you doing?"

It was Justin.

"I was er...spoon!" she grabbed it quickly in relief before ducking out into the bright hall.

Justin was still staring at her and shaking his head as she scrambled back into her chair and dusted off his clothes.

"Thank Merlin," he commented. "I thought you'd died under there."

Eloise wanted to scowl and make an equally sarcastic remark. _"I thought so too. Your feet don't exactly smell like roses."_But she couldn't. Behind Justin, Cedric was looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

The spoon cluttered to the floor again.

With a last roll of his eyes, Justin turned back to him. "Cedric...this is Els." He nudged her with his elbow. "Els, well...you obviously know him."

"Hello," Cedric's eyebrows had gotten higher, surely wondering if that was her real name. Or perhaps if she was always this odd. The smile hadn't left his face.

Eloise wished he would stop smiling- he was making it difficult for her to breathe and she had a feeling that her face was slowly turning blue.

"H-hi," she stammered, before ducking back behind Justin's thin frame and hiding he flushed face. She was staring to wish she had stayed behind with Myrtle.

"— and that Transfiguration! It was so bloody brilliant!" Justin's excitement would have been contagious at any other time, but now Eloise just felt a little sick from holding her breath. Apparently Cedric thought so too; he looked slightly uncomfortable and was he _blushing_? Eloise was positive she was seeing things. "Broc thinks so too!" he turned to Eloise with a painfully eager grin. "Right?"

It was at such moments when Eloise was reminded that Justin wasn't exactly the best friend anyone could hope for- he was obnoxious at times, naive and completely unmindful of everyone else's feelings.

As she felt the horror of what he had uttered wash over her, Cedric spoke up from beside him with a slight furrowing of brows. "Who's Broc?" he noticed Justin's gaze on her. "Her brother?"

Eloise could only stare in horror as Justin started to explain, and in her immense mortification, she did what the adrenaline coursing through her body told her to do- she ran.

She fled the place, jumping up from her seat, grabbing her bag, dodging stray students as she tried not to slip, and swerving around the edge of the Hufflepuff table. She vanished from the Hall in a flurry of steps, the last vestiges of her breakfast the only clue that she had been sitting there.

Justin stared after Eloise, who had just disappeared behind a couple of Ravenclaws, completely bemused. He turned to Cedric, who was frowning in confusion as well. "Was it me? Did I say something?"

Eloise ran out into the Entrance Hall, dodging blindly around people...

_...and he emerged from the Great Hall as well; she could feel his presence behind her, a frown on his forehead, understanding etched over his face. "Eloise," he spoke softly, yet she heard him over the din, somehow. She stopped, mysteriously feeling him draw nearer. His footsteps stopped, and she turned slowly to face him._

_...The crowd melted away in the background; disappearing into hazy walls around them. It was just them- him and her. He opened his mouth and her heart fluttered. He would proclaim his everlasting love for her and they would kiss and ride away into the sunset._

_... "Justin is an insensitive prick."_

Eloise blinked in confusion; that wasn't exactly what was supposed to happen. Cedric's face was transforming- elongating and fading at the same time, until she found herself staring at a blank wall. The noise of the crowd was back.

She blinked again as the vivid visualisation faded away into nothingness. She sighed, turning into a crowded corridor, the blotches of red on her face from the embarrassment finally waning away.

Eloise day-dreamed a ridiculously large number of times a day, and she was well aware of it. But she couldn't help it either— dreaming, wishing, hoping were the only things that made her look forward to a weekday- along with glimpsing Cedric Diggory, of course. It was like a waking dream wish fulfilment. When you dream, you falsely know that at least _someone_ loves you. And you're happy. You're happy just living in that dream- you're happy just wishing over and over again that it would come true. And even if they don't- you can always dream again.

Her dreams told Eloise that she would be happy.

Someday.

"Hey Midgeon!"

Startled out of her thoughts, Eloise looked up, expecting to see Hannah or another of her housemates. Upon looking up, however, she found it was none of those people. She was, in fact, looking at none other than Roger Davies and his gaggle of friends.

It was the dark-haired girl who had spoken- the one who often sneered at Eloise when she bumped across her. Today, however, for some unknown reason, she was smiling.

Eloise felt more bewildered at this than at any other previous occurrence, but even through her uneasiness, she couldn't help but notice how nice and kind the girl looked when she wasn't sneering.

"Eileen, is it?" the girl's voice had none of the snarky quality that Eloise had become attuned to. And she was still smiling. The rest of the group looked like they were holding back grins as well- all except Roger Davies himself, who looked pretty uncomfortable.

Eloise's body mirrored the feeling on being so near their group- she hardly needed to hear another cruelly truthful remark from Davies or anyone else.

"E-Eloise." She stuttered and squeaked all in one, mentally cursing as always, her edginess among people.

"C'mon here, Emily." The girl gave her a wide grin that made her pearly white teeth glint. "Roger here wants to tell you something."

Disconcerted, Eloise tried to back away, but the girl had already stridden forward and grabbed her wrist, dragging her towards the rest of the group. She noticed for the first time how tall they all were. Nervousness settled in the pit of her stomach.

Roger's friends were prodding him forward as well; he looked quite reluctant to say whatever he had to. Eloise had never seen him look so awkward. It increased her trepidation and she glanced sideways, hoping she could somehow slink away from the seventh years undetected.

But he finally stepped forward so that there were only a couple of feet of distance between them.

"Eloise?" he spoke in a loud voice that carried over the chattering of students loitering nearby and attracted their attention. He looked even handsomer from such close quarters- Eloise's palms were beginning to sweat profusely. She refused to look him in the eye as he continued. "Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?" The words came out clearly and loudly.

Eloise's heart seemed to stop beating in that instant. She could hardly feel her mouth drop open, along with everyone else in the vicinity. She glanced up at Roger in disbelief as all breath whooshed out of her.

"_What_?"

"Did he just _say_ that?"

The crowd broke out in whispers; Eloise's pulse thundered behind her ears, drowning out the noise.

She glanced at Roger's friends, who were smiling discreetly and back at Roger himself, who still seemed to be waiting for her response nervously.

Which was completely uncharacteristic of him.

_Would you go to the Yule Ball with me?_

As she tried to breathe, Eloise felt her body heat rising.

Eloise had never been a very rational person- she was impulsive and let her imagination run away with herself.

So with the butterflies rioting in her stomach, she clutched onto the hope burgeoning in her chest with desperation. In that span of two seconds, her mind had already formed various vivid possibilities of how Roger Davies fell in love with her. _Perhaps, he had only tormented her to hide his actual feelings for her. But their love had fought through the thickets of hate that clouded their world to finally bloom into the open- and now he proclaimed his love, for he couldn't fight against it anymore- because he loved her…_

Taking a deep breath, Eloise looked into his dark eyes for the first time.

"Yes," she said in a quiet voice that still carried over the harsh whispers and mutterings of the shocked crowd. Yet, this was no daydream of hers- it _was_ real. It _was_ happening to her.

Everyone quieted suddenly- boys in incredulity, fan-girls in horror and Eloise glanced at his face again.

She expected him to smile or nod or give a short response. She didn't, however, expect a relieved smirk to creep up on his face, didn't expect the familiar mocking glint to reappear in his eyes.

"Do you hear her, guys?" he boomed in an amused tone. "She says _yes_!"

His friends started laughing, with what she supposed was relief, and she joined in, laughing awkwardly along with them.

"She thinks that _I_, Roger Davies, _captain_ of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, would ever go out with a troll-faced whale like her!"

Eloise inhaled sharply as the laughter rang in her ears- her smile slipped.

"Wha-?" she asked in a whisper, uncomprehending. She glanced at him- the harbinger of her happiness, wasn't he? He had asked her, right? He wanted to go with her, right?

But Roger Davies continued to speak in the same boisterous tone amidst snickering from the throng. "Midgeon," he spoke to her with no more than a cavalier glance in her direction; his shining eyes were back on the crowd, feeding on appreciation. "I could even have looked past that gruesome face of yours. But tell me, how am I supposed to dance with a girl bigger than a _hippogriff_?"

Her throat was slowly, excruciatingly, squeezing itself shut- his words clasping around it in a vice-like grip.

"But- but—," she gasped, shallow breaths scalding her throat. Nobody heard her- they were all sniggering, all of them- the laughter was all she could hear— ringing, ringing, ringing in her ears, and her mind- sending her body into convulses. Roger had melted into the crowd- they were all the same. Through the tears pooling at the corner of her eyes, all she could see was the blurred forms of black. The whooping and the whistles and the guffaws surrounded her and the noise was reaching a fever pitch- closing in; the claustrophobia became unbearable, shutting off her windpipe in a painful clench.

For the second time that morning, Eloise scrunched her eyes shut and blindly ran.

* * *

><p>The bathroom on the first floor was damp, cold and empty. Silent. The stone floor on which Eloise lay supine was the same- the iciness felt comforting.<p>

_She thinks that _I_, Roger Davies, _captain_ of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, would ever go out with a troll-faced whale like her!_

And just like that, Eloise started laughing. The reverberating snorts in the cavernous room seemed too morbidly similar to the atmosphere she had just left, and that just sent her into more hysterical laughter. What had she thought? That someone, Roger Davies, no less, would come and sweep her off her feet? That someone would see past her pockmarked skin and actually love her?

Eloise laughed harder at the thought. What would he see beyond her ghastly appearance? Nothing. There was nothing to be seen. She was just that, hideous, _useless_. _Worthless_. She was no saint. She was just, _nothing_. Nor would she ever be anything different. Never- there would never be any fairytale endings for people like Eloise.

As the lack of air started scratching at her throat, Eloise finally cried.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thanks for reading everyone. It means a lot. :) Special thanks to LingeringLuminosity for leaving such a kind review! :)

Opinions, criticism and everything else is welcome. :)


	4. What's In A Name?

****Chapter Four: What's in a name?****

_She discovers that sometimes, everything is._

* * *

><p><strong><strong>" ...and of course, because of my scintillating repartee, she was mesmerised." Justin winked at Hannah, who, along with her friends, was across the common room from them and she giggled. "So, did you guess yet, Els? She said 'yes'!"

Justin had insisted on recapping the entire episode with Hannah Abbott, his date, and had been doing so for the past quarter of an hour. In rich detail. Like a typical girl.

Eloise was trying her very best to resist telling him so. He looked happy...and arrogant. Arrogance didn't suit him, Eloise realised. She frowned as her stomach quivered again.

Eloise was feeling very strange today- a sort of melancholy mixed with despondence. Ever since that Roger incident – Eloise cringed even at the thought of it- a new inexplicable determination had burgeoned in her. She didn't hide and she didn't shed tears anymore. A never ending refrain of 'nothing worse could happen' echoed constantly in her thoughts.

At least until today.

But today was different because it brought on a horde of feelings that she wasn't ready to come to terms with; she didn't understand them.

All she wanted was to get away from Justin, from the castle itself- to be transported back to home, to sleep in her mother's arms, her nose buried in her neck...

She didn't want to attend tomorrow's ball anymore, and not just because she's be going very much alone.

But because the mere idea of dressing up, trying to look _pretty_ and being surrounded by couples repulsed her.

She wished, oh how she wished, that every Christmas to come could be like the last three- being with Justin, the one who was her friend; innocent and naive, not to the self-satisfied one, not the one who was going with Hannah, not the one who knew would ditch her for the entire evening the next day if she went.

Nope. Christmas with her _best friend_ Justin, who would send her the same gift every year- a clay model, beautifully shaped and moulded by his own hands. The gifts cost nothing, yet were priceless. And she would paint them and place them on her bedside table to gaze at them. A dragon, a thestral (magical creatures, he _loved_ them) and an igloo to apologise to her at the end of their second year...

And Justin wouldn't scowl at the sloppily painted pieces- rather, he would grin and his eyes would twinkle and he would say that she always made his things look pretty and that she shouldn't have painted the dragon pink. And then when she would bite her lips in consternation, he would laugh and thump her on the back saying that he always secretly liked pink anyway because it was so rebellious. And she would smile radiantly and Justin would teach her how to paint without messing things up. And he would hold her hand and make her brush move in swift, less clumsy strokes. And he would say, "_Like this, Els..._"

"Els?"

Eloise blinked up at present day Justin to find him looking at her with a concerned and shocked look.

"Um...Els?" asked tentatively again. "Are you okay? Why...why are you crying?"

Horrified, Eloise raised a hand to her cheek to find it wet. She hadn't realised she had been crying. Why was she crying anyway? She didn't know anymore.

"Uh..." she stammered. She looked him in the eye, trying to say, she didn't know what; trying to see, she didn't know what either. "I'm going," she muttered finally, wiping her eyes hastily, and getting up.

He didn't say anything as she left the common room; not that she expected him to. It was only in half-forgotten dreams, that she expected people to come after her. To the portrait door to open and Justin to step out and come after her... only in dreams.

..

..

After about an hour pointless wandering and being lost in her own thoughts, Eloise finally realised what had been bothering her. With a bitter laugh that resounded in the empty corridor and made several occupants of portraits look up, she realised she was _jealous_. And she didn't envy Hannah either, because she'd always known she'd get a date. But Justin. She was so jealous- she resented his not going alone.

How pathetic was that?

After an inestimable time- perhaps it was an hour or perhaps a minute, she started moving again with new resolve. She wouldn't go the Yule Ball. Why should she, when she didn't want to? Sure her mother would be disappointed in her if she came to know, but in the end, she would forget. Eloise would simply remain in her bed like a coward and dream of things that could have been.

"Young lady!" A squeaky male voice made her halt in her tracks and glance at the painting of a portly young wizard with blue robes. It was the last one in the corridor. Briefly, she wondered how those paintings were painted so accurately. Was it with magic? She wanted to paint like that someday, she did. She remembered all those paintings of herself and Justin, all varying degrees of horrible and smiled. Painting was like...being lost in herself, her own being and not hating it, for once.

"Yes?" Eloise smiled hesitantly at him.

"You shouldn't be outside afterhours, young miss!" The man squeaked.

She frowned, jerking her sleeve back to glance at her watch. "I'm not— _Merlin's pants_!"

It was already half an hour past curfew. How had she gotten so late?

The portrait man nodded solemnly. "And on a similar note— Mrs. Norris is coming right your way, Miss."

Heart pounding, Eloise quickly peered around the end of the corridor and realised the portrait was right— there was no mistaking the small shadowy form skulking in the dim light.

"Thank you!" Eloise gasped quickly to the short man before turning on her heels and running in the opposite direction as fast and stealthily as she could. The adrenaline pumping through her body made her a little dizzy and made her _laugh_. By the time she reached the kitchens, tears were dripping down her cheeks- this time of mirth, happiness. Because suddenly, she was all too aware of _herself_, her consciousness. She revelled in it— the sheer company of herself and herself alone— the _solitude_.

It was a little like painting.

She climbed into the common room still grinning madly at her adventurous excursion, but the grin slid off quickly when she saw Justin still sitting on the same couch and looking at her as if asking for an explanation.

His look wasn't accusatory or angry in the slightest, yet Eloise felt her defensiveness kicking in for ruining her moment.

"What?" she snapped, a little petulantly.

Justin heaved an exasperated sigh. "You _know_ what '_what'_, Broc."

Eloise refused to move from her position many feet away from him. "No I don't," she insisted childishly.

"Yes, you do," he snapped back, now looking very irritated.

"Maybe I do, but _you_ don't!" she finally said, very loudly. "You never understand. Acting as if you are the coolest person on earth just because you asked Hannah out! Well, guess what? _I don't care_! Nobody does! So stop bloody acting like a _girl_!"

Eloise had no idea where her angry and slightly pitiable rant and come from and for a moment, it seemed, neither had Justin. But he quickly stood up with a furious expression when he understood what she was talking about.

He gave a harsh laugh. "Oh come on, _Broc_. You're just jealous because you're pathetically dateless!"

It was the truth, yet the statement, coming from _him_, still made her blood boil.

She snorted. "Jealous? _Ha_! How can I be jealous when I don't care about the stupid ball? Because I'm not going anyway!" she spat at him.

Justin blinked, apparently losing steam momentarily. Eloise almost expected him to revert to his normal self and whine, "_What_? _But_ _why_?"

Almost.

Taking advantage of his silence, she turned away from him and stormed up to her dormitory without another word to him.

* * *

><p>It had been an hour since they had gone down. Had the dancing ended yet? Eloise squirmed where she squatted on her bed. For the hundredth time in the past hour, she glared at her dress again. It was green, and would have gone wonderfully with her eyes, or so her mother had said. Her mother, who'd had to cut down on her own expenses for the month to buy it.<p>

It was pretty, Eloise grudgingly accepted, and it wasn't itchy either. Perhaps she could try it on again? Just to see how she looked?

..

..

She didn't look half bad either, Eloise thought, as she looked over her shoulder at her reflection. Of course, she didn't look one-tenth as gorgeous as any other girl in her dorm, but that couldn't be helped.

She twirled around a bit, watching the soft material float around in a pretty circle... She'd always liked frilly dresses— frocks and skirts. At least until she grew up and started looking plump in them with her hideously fat legs revealed...

_"Daddy, you're back!" Seven year old Eloise's father could only spot a very pink ball of colour moving towards him before it collided with him. "Daddy!" Laughing happily, Eloise clung to her father's legs even as he bent down to pull her up into his arms._

_Her daddy had only just done so before he threw her up into the air, making her squeal. "That's getting difficult to do now, you big girl," he said, pressing her nose and looking tired, but happy._

_"Daddy," Eloise whispered, prodding his shoulder before shooting a not-so-covert glance at her mother, who could be seen milling in the kitchen. "What did you get me?"_

_Her father winked and sshh'ed conspiratorially making her giggle in excitement. He carried her to the sofa upon which several plastic bags lay and picked one of them. Eloise grabbed it in her small, chubby hands, and asked, still in a whisper, "What is it?"_

_Her father simply winked again. "Go on. Open it."_

_Being able to take the suspense no longer, Eloise wrenched it open and squealed with delight at what she saw. "It's a frock, it's a frock!" she cried in glee, quite forgetting to keep silent._

_"What is?" her mother asked, appearing in the doorway._

_"Mum! Daddy got me a frock! See?" she held up the dress— bright, vivid orange for her mother to see._

_Her mother looked very disapproving- she feared her husband was spoiling Eloise. But Eloise didn't notice, for she was kissing her father's cheeks._

_"I love you, daddy," she said._

_And she did. Not only for brining her favourite dress (though that did count), but also for coming back home and smiling at her, and loving her._

Eloise twirled around again, the small girl in her seemingly reawakening. She wondered what it would be like to dance in that dress with a guy and just twirl around again and again...

"Snap out of it, Eloise," she muttered to herself. "You don't even _like_ dancing."

She glanced at the mirror again. Surely, _surely_ it wouldn't hurt to just go and look what the ball looked like.

Surely...

..

..

Eloise slunk into the Great Hall and the loud blast of music met her full in the face. She glanced around, hoping not to be seen by any of her classmates and realised that compared to students around her, she looked positively dull. She had left her hair down— and she hadn't had time to wear make-up.

She quickly slipped between two groups of people, searching, before she knew who she was searching for. Then she realised. _Justin_. Why? To see him dancing merrily with Hannah? To see him...kissing her?

She shuddered at the horrible thought.

And then she saw him. He was standing with his back to her, apparently talking to Hannah, who looked radiant.

Had it been any other day, any other time, she would have noticed Cedric Diggory standing just a couple of feet behind Justin, catching her eye and smiling politely, but she didn't, for she was looking at _Justin_. Any other time her heart would've been beating fast and she would have been telling herself that just because someone smiled at her didn't mean he liked her, but she didn't, because she couldn't tear her eyes off the back of _Justin's_ head. She didn't notice how beautiful the Great Hall looked or how Fred Weasley seemed to be actually kicking nearby people while dancing.

She slowly turned around and walked back the way she'd come, still remembering to hide from her classmates, yet all the previous excitement had been leeched out of her.

..

..

The top of the Astronomy tower was silent and deserted. Eloise sat near the ledge cross-legged, gazing at the immense expanse of the universe. And the moon. The moon _was_ something magical, wasn't it? Everyone looked pretty in its light. The moonbeams washed away, hid away all flaws— the dim light transformed something gruesome into something..._pretty_.

Eloise sighed sadly, yearning, yearning for old times. When she could sit upon this very tower to look at the stars, those twinkling stars that always fascinated her, without reflecting upon earthly things.

Everything. Everything was borne out of that same fact. Her repulsiveness. _Everything_. Like an insidious weed, that one fact had ruined her life. Every facet of her life.

Hers was a face to be hidden. So why was she wrong to hide such a face? Why was she wrong to dream, dream of a different world where she could hide? Why _couldn't_ she simply hide, run away? Because no happiness came out of meeting people either. It wasn't as if anyone liked her. It was obvious. She could see it in the way they tried not to glance at her again, the way they started talking amongst themselves. The way they spoke afterwards to her mother in hushed tones that her daughter should probably work-out more.

Eloise always heard this with an affectation of supreme indifference, though she suddenly felt very alone in the universe. The feeling made her crave for something, someone- anyone who would love her back.

Anyone.

She just... wanted to go back in time. Be a child, a kid. Just play and read and play again.

Just as she glanced at the night sky again, she thought she saw a shooting star- just a streak of thin light across the sky- tantalising, spurring her to make a wish.

Heart beating rather fast all of a sudden, Eloise brought her palms together in a prayer.

_Dearest God. You know. It's okay if you can't make me pretty. Really. Just... just send me back in time, please? Just this once, God. I won't ask anything of you ever again—_

"Els?"

Eloise stood up so fast that she almost stumbled back to the cold floor again.

A figure silhouetted against the doorway moved into the moonlight, and his features were thrown into sharp relief.

Justin looked as surprised to see her as she was of him— he was dressed differently from before, in dark-blue robes rather than the blood-red ones she had seen downstairs. She frowned in confusion, taking in his attire before it occurred to her that the person she had seen wasn't Justin at all, but someone else altogether. She had just assumed him to him because he happened to be talking to Hannah.

"What are you doing here?" Eloise blurted out.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, similarly eyeing her dress. "Don't you feel cold?" he asked suddenly.

Eloise fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "No. The dress came with a heating charm," she muttered.

He nodded and Eloise noticed that his face was impassive, devoid of all emotion. The sight made her irritated— Justin was supposed to be _animated_; there had never been a time when there hadn't been an emotion playing on his face, when he hadn't had something to say.

Yet now, an awkward silence lingered between them...

...that was broken by the loud grumbling of Eloise's stomach.

Justin looked almost shocked for a moment, staring at her in a bewildered way, before he burst out laughing. His loud laughter shattered the nightly silence and Eloise tried to glare at him, only to find a grin trying to slip between her lips. She turned away so that he wouldn't see her wide grin, and cursed his infectious laughter to the pits of hell.

"Stop," she said feebly, not really wanting him to stop. "Don't laugh. I didn't eat dinner tonight."

But he just kept on laughing, and Eloise couldn't stop herself anymore, she started laughing along with him, gazing at his animated face and drinking it all in- the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way his laughter sounded even more high pitched in the relative quiet, and the piece of food that was stuck between his teeth. A normal person would have been disgusted, but she, she was fascinated...

And then all of a sudden she was crying again, wanting this to always last and knowing that it wouldn't. That they would grow up and grow apart, and that he would perhaps stop talking to her once he had a girlfriend and she, she would be left behind.

"Els?" his arms were around her then, but she was sobbing uncontrollably. Merlin, since when did she become such a cry-baby? _Since always_, her conscience truthfully reminded her. "Blimey, why are you crying again? One moment you're laughing and the next, this." She felt him shake his head. "I am never able to understand you."

"I... I just hate fighting with you," she hiccupped. She couldn't believe she was telling him the truth, for once. But today was turning out to be a topsy-turvy world. So, of course she was telling him. Of course.

When he didn't immediately reply, Eloise glanced up at him. He was so close that for a moment she didn't notice anything except the way his eyes twinkled, but then she noticed that his face was stretched into a_very_ familiar wicked grin. "Personally, I love to see you fighting and angry. Your eyes get huge and your nose gets this red. It's hilarious to watch." His laughs rumbled through his chest that was connected with hers. Despite herself, a strangled laugh escaped her lips.

Both of them were silent for a while, but Eloise didn't mind. She felt at peace, for the first time that day. Finally, she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "Why were you up here, anyway?"

Justin shrugged. "Do you really think I'd have enjoyed the ball without you?"

Eloise felt her eyes widen and she gulped. "What about Hannah?" she mumbled.

He shrugged again. "She seemed perfectly happy with Neville Longbottom."

"Oh."

Justin nodded. "Broc," he said abruptly. "Do you know why I call you that?" His face was solemn, from what she could tell.

She grumbled, knowing the answer. "To annoy me, obviously."

The wicked grin graced his features again, highlighting his pointed teeth. "Um...well, _yes_, partly." Eloise mock-glared at him, hitting him on the head, but he just chortled, grabbing her hand. "Hear me out, Els. Well, yes, it's always fun to annoy you, but it's also fun to annoy Ernie and Susan—,"

"And rest of the humanity," Eloise supplied in amusement.

He glared at her, but continued as if she hadn't interrupted. "— but I only call _you_ Broc, because that's what you are, you know?" Eloise shook her head, confused at his earnest tone. "Els, broccoli is my favourite vegetable. It's delicious, it's special. Even if the rest of the world can't see it, I know just how exceptional it is. Just like you."

Eloise merely blinked at him.

"You will always be my most special friend, Broc, you silly girl." He smiled; a genuine smile. And Eloise understood what he was trying to tell her. That she didn't need to be jealous, or insecure, because she'd always be his best friend.

The warmth that spread inside her at his words was like a wildfire, diffusing from her head to her toes.

"That's so corny, Justin," was all she was able to blurt out.

Justin wrinkled his nose a bit, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it? Not like me. I do extraordinary and eccentric.

Eloise laughed again, unable to tear her gaze from his face. And she realised then that she hadn't really liked her previous crushes, not really. All she'd wanted was them to love her back. Because she wanted to feel what it was like. Being loved. Being kissed for the first time. But this. This was something different, something special and something _hers_. _Her_ Justin. And she wanted to feel _it_, whatever it was.

Eloise looked up at him again, and realised her heart was positively thundering in her chest. Taking a deep breath, Eloise forgot about everything, the implications, the repercussions. For once, she closed her eyes, and did something for herself and herself alone.

Reaching up on her tiptoes, she leaned in and kissed his still grinning lips.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>AN: ****Dun, dun, dun! (love saying that :P)

I personally like this chapter. It may have been a bit too abrupt, but it made me feel plenty satisfied for some reason. Now, this is going to be the second from last chapter. Which means the next chapter will be the end! Feels weird to actually finish a fic...

SO. Do tell what you thought about this chapter! Your reviews mean the world to me :)****

_Also, as perhaps everyone knows, the title is taken from Shakespeare's play _Romeo and Juliet _and is therefore not mine._**  
><strong>


	5. Broccoli

**Chapter Five: Broccoli**

_Of finally accepting._

* * *

><p>Accept everything about yourself - I mean everything; you are you and that is the beginning and the end - no apologies, no regrets.<br>**-_Clark Moustakas_**

..

_Reaching up on her tiptoes, she leaned in and kissed his still grinning lips.  
><em>  
>It was an awkward kiss- little more than a peck, and clumsy, but for Eloise it was more than perfect- it was enthralling, it set her nerves on fire and made her dizzy simply from realising what she was doing. It was the most exciting thing she had done in her life- at that moment when all rational thought and memories had fled her mind except her complete, sheer knowledge of her actions- she was sure of it.<p>

She wanted to do it again and again and again.

But when she broke away, her gaze landing on his pale face, her pulse thunderous behind her ears and her breathing shallow, she saw his expression. It was nothing short of flabbergasted, his eyes were frozen wide and a light blush was creeping on his cheeks. Eloise couldn't help but grin.

Finally, he moved, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, his slack hand which had been limp at his side came up to run through his curly hair.

"Eloise..." he murmured, closing his eyes and shaking his head, a frown forming between his eyebrows.

She froze. Eloise. He had called her Eloise. She had never been Eloise to him before, not when they had first met, not when they had argued and fought in the most ridiculous of ways. It had always been a direct transition from Midgeon to Els and, to her annoyance, Broc. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she had already backed away, away from him, staring at him in a kind of horrified trance. The obscurity of her actions and the relative serenity fled away, receding to the edges, so that it was clear for her to see what she had done.

_What have I done? _What _had_ she _done_? Panic overwhelmed her, and looking at him, she realised he was looking everywhere except at her. Dread rose like bile in her throat, and no longer able to control herself, she whipped around and did what she did best. She ran.

"Eloise, wait!" his shout would have stopped her at any other moment, but he was still calling her Eloise and he was mad and disgusted and she would _not_ wait. How could she? She didn't think she would be able to look him in the eye ever again; she was so embarrassed and ashamed and horrified of her _own_self. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes as she reached at the bottom of the staircase, making her conscious of the fact that she was hurt at the rejection, but she could not dwell on the feeling, not when she had just put a much bigger, stronger thing in jeopardy- their friendship.

His footsteps were echoing behind her now, and she tried to run faster, but her heels slid from under her and she fell, her hands coming up to break her fall. She stayed like that on the floor, on her scraped knees and scraped palms, knowing he would catch up with her in few short seconds. Her face burned with humiliation.

She finally felt his cold hand on her shoulders and his muttered 'hey' as he sat down next to her on the freezing floor. Eloise gulped, letting her hair fall forward to shield her face from his gaze.

"Look at me, Els..." She was so surprised that he had used her nickname that she did, before she quickly ducked her head back again. She could feel his gaze on her, piercing her even through her curtain of hair and she couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry!" she finally burst out in a wail, hiding her face behind her hands. Her voice echoed strangely in the deserted corridor, lingering for a few more seconds before dying out.

"Els," he said more forcefully this time, the grip on her shoulder tightening. "Els, look at me."

When she didn't respond, he forced her hands away from her face, crouching in front of her. She looked up despite herself, her face getting warmer when their eyes met.

"I understand," he said softly, half a smirk on his face. She blinked, not expecting those words from him. He continued, "I saw Cedric downstairs with that Ravenclaw girl." He was outright smirking now. "I know how it feels." And before, she had a chance to respond, he had pulled her into a hug.

Oh. _Oh_. He misunderstood. He thought that she kissed him because she wanted to forget about Cedric, a person she couldn't care less about at the moment. A part of her wanted to correct him, tell him that it was _him_ she was attracted to. But then she remembered that he wasn't mad or disgusted, and that he had actually acted understandingly, for once, and she swallowed back the truth and let him hug her awkwardly on the cold stone floor with chilly winds blowing around them.

* * *

><p>The noise around her was positively deafening as she sidled between people to reach her seat, binoculars in hand. She didn't understand why people needed to be so <em>loud<em>, for Merlin's sake. The task hadn't even started yet. Scowling as two second-years trod on her foot in a hurry to get better seats, she finally reached the row her housemates were seated on.

"Broc!" Justin waved frantically at her, nearly knocking off Professor Sprout's hat, who was seated in the row below him. Eloise rolled her eyes, unable to hide the amused grin that crept up her face. When she finally reached him and sat down, she hit him lightly on the head, as if to say, 'yeah-you're-pretty-hard-to-miss-when-you're-acting-like-a-lunatic'.

He simply grinned in response, before turning back to the front. "It's starting!" A shrill whistle pierced the cold air to thunderous approbation. "Oooh, look! Cedric's entering at the water!" He jumped in his seat like a first-year, and people behind him protested at being robbed of their view. Eloise, who hadn't once glanced at the champions, grabbed his arm, and made him sit still, ignoring his pout. The sight of his lips brought back memories of that night and made it difficult for her to breathe.

As she stared at him, however, drinking in the different emotions dancing on his face one after the other, the shining eyes, and the small pimple near his ear, she felt something else. A feeling that was detached, different from heartache. _Other_. It was pure exhilaration, she realised, unadulterated happiness that being near him gave her.

He felt her gaze on him and turned to look at her quizzically, and when she just smiled, he smiled back, a genuine, beautiful smile that made her heart soar, before he turned back to the front. She turned too, but her mind was still on his smile.

For the first time, Eloise felt, that maybe, just maybe, she hadn't needed the popularity, the acceptance of people after all. Perhaps, all she had ever needed was a friend. _Him_.

_Eloise, broccoli makes you beautiful, _her mother had said eons ago. She realised now, more than ever before how fitting her nickname was. Hadn't she begged her mother for anything but the vegetable?

_"I'll eat anything! Spinach, cabbage, beans…__anything__! Just not broccoli mum, please!"_

How true that was, that she made other people beautiful. Just like the ugly broccoli made you appreciate other eatables you may never have liked before. Just like she gave beauty meaning. Not because she was such a good person that she was practically an incarnation of goodwill or anything. Not that she was special, like Justin had told her to lighten her heart. It was because without hideous people like her, there wouldn't be any definition of beautiful, would there? The word 'beauty' would have no connotation.

_It is _me, Eloise thought with a sudden surge of fierce pride, _that makes them beautiful. Who would they compare themselves to to boost their self esteem, if there didn't exist girls like me? Nobody._

Beauty and repulsiveness, both of them were twined together.

And all of a sudden, Eloise felt, _knew_she was better than them, all those vain, arrogant, shallow people inside the castle.

Her happiness just amplified.

_I only call_you_Broc, because that's what you are, you know? Els, broccoli is my favourite vegetable. It's delicious, it's special. Even if the rest of the world can't see it, I know just how exceptional it is. Just like you._

She laughed to herself at that. She wasn't exceptional in a way Justin had meant, but she was exceptional alright. And she was with _him_. She now knew, her grin stretched wide across her face, just how lucky she was.

How was it that she had never noticed that before?

She had _him_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _This is it! Finally, the end! I'm so happy that I've finally completed it! :D_

_So, thank you! to everyone who reviewed, favourited or thought this worthy enough of reading! Thank you to everyone who stuck with this fic so far, and thankyou to those challenge-givers, (without whose deadline, I'd never have finished this. Possibly :P)_

_So if anyone was dissappointed by the ending- this fic was not about Eloise growing out of her self-deprecating character or turning pretty or getting the love of her best-friend. It was about her _beginning_to realise that she wasn't so bad, afterall. ;)_

_AND, if you guys still want to read more, there's a sequel coming up! :D It has been tentatively titled 'Mushroom Tea', but that can change. And, that one is going to be in Justin's PoV. So look out for it if you want to keep reading! I'll post it before the end of the month. :)  
><em>  
><em>Until we meet again,<em>

_Vanya._


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